


With no direction

by Ischa



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Incest, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-15
Updated: 2011-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Spencer leaves Vegas without looking back, Mikey is playing bass in Chibi's band and Gerard is a street artist working at night.<br/>Side pairing: Lindsey/Chibi</p><p><i>“He doesn't need to hide . . .” Gerard says. Spencer knows that Gerard thinks Mikey is perfect, but Mikey is his brother and he loves him. “It's not because he is my brother that I love him,” Gerard says and Spencer realizes that he said the last thing out loud. “It's because he is funny and creative and plays bass with passion and because he's beautiful,” Gerard adds. Spencer turns to look at him. Gerard is smiling.<br/>“Yeah, he is,” Spencer says. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	With no direction

**Title:** With no direction ****  
**Pairing:** Gerard/Mikey/Spencer, Chibi/Lindsey  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Summary:** In which Spencer leaves Vegas without looking back, Mikey is playing bass in Chibi's band and Gerard is a street artist working at night.  
 **Warning(s):** angst, incest, threesome  
 **Author’s Notes:** Written for [](http://geoffaree.livejournal.com/profile)[**geoffaree**](http://geoffaree.livejournal.com/). No idea why this turned out so long...  
 **Word Count:** 5.157  
 **Beta:**[](http://katelynelaine.livejournal.com/profile)[ **katelynelaine**](http://katelynelaine.livejournal.com/)  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real.

  
_I am going away for a while  
But I'll be back don't try and follow me  
'Cause I'll return as soon as possible  
See I'm trying to find my place  
And it might not be here where I feel safe  
We all learn to make mistakes_

(Paramore)

  
~One~  
He doesn't have any real idea where he wants to be, but he knows that he doesn't want to be here, doesn't want to stay in Vegas where everyone wants something from him. His mom, his sisters, Brent, Ryan . . . Ryan will be so fucking pissed at him when he finds out. But Spencer doesn't think he can deal with Ryan's shit anymore. Years of taking care of Ryan, years he wasn't a kid, years he was there for someone else and it's not that he regrets it. He can't regret anything that involves Ryan, but he feels burnt out and he needs to get out of the city. Somewhere...maybe where there is a real winter and rain and mist or . . . well, just somewhere where he can't be found for some time.  
His bag is already packed, lying in the back of his car. He scribbled a note to his mom, trying to explain and one to Ryan, but he isn't even sure Ryan will make it past: _I am going away for a while._ He thinks Ryan will maybe appreciate the lyrics. Spencer just isn't that good with words. That was always something of a Ryan thing. He leans his head against the cool wall and breathes. He will come back. He knows he will. He just doesn't know when.  
Spencer smiles at Brent one last time and then just gets into the car.

  
~Two~  
The reason for ending up in Jersey is that his car breaks down, he doesn't have much money left, and his car needs new parts. His apartment is small and really shitty, but cheap and the sketchy bar he's working in is just sketchy enough to not really care how old he is, as long as he cleans the floors. If he's honest with himself, he kind of likes working here as well. No one bothers him because no one cares.

~+~  
He's standing in the back and waiting for another shitty band to go on stage, thinking of Ryan and how he would scoff. He misses Ryan on nights like this, but not enough to go back to Vegas.  
'Fictional Statement' has a female singer and guitarist – which is pretty rare, he thinks. He closes his eyes and listens to the singer’s voice, singing about massacres on birthdays. He kind of likes it. He thinks Ryan would've as well, maybe he should send Ryan their CD. Maybe Ryan will even listen to it. He opens his eyes in time to see the very bendy guitarist kiss the singer. He's never seen two girls kiss in real life. Porn so doesn't count and this is so much hotter, even if they are fully clothed, or maybe because they are fully clothed and sweaty and the guitarist's fingers tighten on neck of her guitar.  
He swallows and looks away to the other side of the stage, where a tall slim guy is smiling without really doing so. His long fingers caressing the strings of his bass, his head cocked to one side under his woollen hat.

~+~  
Spencer doesn't have any friends here in Jersey and he feels he doesn't need them either. What he needs is some space and peace and the chance to not think about _everything_ he does or says.  
He puts the cleaning mop away and closes the door. The spring night is cold so he zips up his coat, tightens his scarf and puts his hands into his pockets. There is a wall – he calls it The Wall – he passes on his way home, every week there is something else painted or sprayed on it. It's like his personal gallery. He stops in front of it and just looks it over. There is a street-lamp nearby so he can see that the picture is new. He thinks they're zombie ducks, seven of them doing pirouettes on a mirror of some sorts. It's somehow cool and somehow gruesome. He wishes it was light, so he could take a picture with his phone. He hopes it will still be there tomorrow.

~+~  
The singer of 'Fictional Statement' is standing in front of the yoghurt he really wants. Her dress is patterned with polka dots and she is wearing knee-socks with heavy boots.

“Sweetheart?” A woman says and she turns around. So does Spencer. It's the bendy guitarist. She looks awesome, Spencer thinks.

“Hmm?”

“I think that boy wants some yoghurt and you are standing in his way,” she says.

“Oh . . .” she says, turning to look at Spencer. She smiles and he smiles back. “Go for it,” she adds.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, reaching over.

~+~  
The following week she buys him a drink after their gig. He doesn't need friends, but she is hot and her name is Chibi, so he is pretty much in love or something.

~+~  
Her girlfriend's name is Lindsey and she's the bendy guitarist. Spencer can see how much in love they are. Spencer doesn't have any illusions about Chibi leaving her bendy guitarist. He wouldn't leave Lindsey if she were his girlfriend.

~+~  
“But you can't mean that!” he says and everyone looks in his direction. Chibi laughs and tells him to sit down. He doesn't have much to do right now, so he does.

“That's Mikey and Frank and Bob,” she says and he nods. “You know Lindsey already.” She says Lindsey's name with so much tenderness it makes him smile.

“Spencer,” he answers.

“So, you think Anthrax is an overrated band?” Mikey asks.

  
~Three~  
Hanging out with Mikey is not like hanging out with his friends back at home. It might be because hanging out with Mikey is usually hanging out with the band after gigs or before gigs. Chibi likes to pet his hair while they're lying on the old couch in the back-room. Frank is waving his cigarette while he's elaborating a point. Spencer doesn't know what they are talking about. He zoned out a while ago. He thinks they are talking about tattoos. Spencer likes to look at Chibi's Sailor Saturn. He sometimes stares, but it's Sailor Saturn, so it's totally not his fault. She tugs at his hair and he opens his eyes to look at her.

“You zoned out again . . .” she says softly.

“Yeah . . .”

“Mikey asked if you play.”

“Drums,” he answers and curses himself. He didn't want to talk about his band.

“That's cool,” Mikey says. He likes Mikey's voice. It's quiet and soft, but not monotone like Ryan's used to be.

“I wasn't that good, I'm not as good as Bob.”

“No one is as good as Bob,” Lindsey throws in.

“I heard my name,” Bob says from the door, lighting a cigarette.

“Yeah?” Chibi asks; her mouth looks pretty even upside down.

“Yeah,” Bob answers, but he's shrugging like he really doesn't care. Spencer suspects that he really doesn't. It's just how Bob is; uncomplicated. Lindsey once called him their safe rock.

~+~  
The Wall has another picture on it and Spencer knows that some call this form of art vandalism, but he thinks it's pretty cool. Sometimes he thinks he can see which mood the artist was in as he painted it. When he or she – Spencer doesn't know the gender after all and it doesn't really matter – had a bad day there is much more black and dark blues and shades of red. When the artist had a good day or week you can sometimes see pale green and purple and yellow among shades of white. Because it's never really grey, Spencer thinks. Not that he knows anything about art. He only cares about stuff he likes. He likes what this particular street artist does.

He takes out his phone and takes a picture of it. He has 11 of them now. It's a gallery. None of them are signed not even with an obscure street artist tag. Still, he just knows it's the same artist every time. Something about those pictures feels familiar.

~+~  
He can't remember the dream clearly when he wakes up, but he knows it was one of those dreams, those he doesn't care to remember. He gets himself off and then out of bed to take a shower. It’s his free day, as Mondays are really slow, so he eats some cereals for breakfast and goes out grocery shopping.

Lindsey calls when he's debating between tomatoes and cucumbers. He has only money enough for one. It sucks to be poor he thinks.

“Tomatoes,” Lindsey says.

“Just because or can you give me a good reason?” He asks, his phone between his shoulder and his jaw, but he is already packing some tomatoes into his cart.

“Chibi brought some home yesterday. You can have one,” she says. He thinks she sounds smug.

“Thanks . . . So are you calling for any real reason?”

“It's your day off, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, come over? Mikey and Frank have this new game.”

“I'm not playing Magic again . . .” he says.

“Because you always lose,” Lindsey laughs.

“Frank is cheating and you know it,” he answers.

“Maybe, but where is the fun if you don't?” She asks and then: “Are you coming or not?”

“Your place?”

“Around eight, bring some of your tomatoes!” she says and hangs up on him. He puts his phone away smiling.

~+~  
“Let me see!” Frank says and grabs his cell.

“Hey! That’s private!”

“Who's Ryan, your boyfriend?”

“What? No. And if he were, it wouldn't be your business anyway!” Spencer answers sharply, snatching his phone back.

“Touchy subject, hmmm?” Frank says grinning. Spencer glares.

“Frank,” Mikey says softly but firm.

“I was just joking,” he answers. Mikey lights a cigarette for him and passes it over. Frank nods his thanks and doesn't say a further word about it.

  
~Four~  
When Mikey said he would pick him up, Spencer said yes without thinking about it. He didn't think they would end up on Spencer's old couch afterwards, just him and Mikeyway. He makes coffee while Mikey is looking at the wall with all the print outs he pinned on it. Pictures he took with his phone.

“Street art,” Spencer says, putting the mugs on his small table. He got it from Bob's grandmother.

“I know,” Mikey says. He's running a finger down a dark purple line of 'Wednesday picture number four’ – that’s the title Spencer gave it in his mind.

“I really like them . . . That one,” he taps 'Saturday number one, “is my favourite.”

“Why?”

“Because I like how there are so many shades of white in it,” Spencer answers, shrugging.

“It's shades of grey,” Mikey says, but there is no amusement in his voice.

“I think it's shades of white, I can't explain it, but it doesn't feel grey to me?” He makes it a question, because he feels like an idiot already.

“You have a lot of them . . .” Mikey is still running his fingers over lines and figures and forms on the cheap paper.

“I think I have one for every week I'm here,” Spencer answers.

“Fourteen weeks, hmmm?”

“Seems so,” Spencer says.

“You miss home?”

“On some days,” he admits.

“My brother made them,” Mikey says out of the blue.

“What?”

“The paintings; my brother made them. He spends hours sketching them out and planning and he just does it – usually on Thursdays . . . Sometimes on other days as well. It always depends,” he says, turning around to face Spencer. He pushes up his glasses and takes his mug from the table.

“Oh god . . .” Spencer moans.

“What?”

“Don't tell him.”

“What are you talking about? He loves to hear that people like his stuff. You _do_ have it printed out,” Mikey points out. It sounds fairly reasonable. Spencer feels still mortified. He now feels like a creepy stalker. “Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“He'll really be happy about this,” Mikey says, a small smile tugging on his lips. Spencer loves that small smile, so he smiles back.

~+~  
There are things Spencer doesn't like to think about. Mikey's smile is one of those things. He doesn't like to analyse how it makes him feel, how it makes him want things. When he thinks about it, he has to admit that he might have a slight crush on Mikeyway, or a bigger one, if his teenage dreams are any indication.

~+~  
He is nervous when he's standing outside the Way's door, on their porch. His finger hovers for a whole minute over the bell before he rings it.

“Spencer,” Mikey says as he opens the door. Mikey doesn't hug and Spencer is really okay with it. Hugs make him think of Ryan and they make him nervous as hell. He doesn't even know what he would do if Mikey should hug him. The sheer thought makes him panic in his head. It would be too close. He would be able to feel Mikey.

“Hi,” he answers, feeling like a douche bag. Why the hell is he so nervous anyway, just because he is meeting Mikey's brother today?

“Come in,” Mikey says and Spencer does.

~+~  
Mikey's brother Gerard is a freak. Not in a bad way, he thinks, but definitely a freak. When Mikey talks about him – which is pretty much all the time – you might think Gerard hung the moon and painted the stars into the dark sky. Gerard doesn't look it. He looks like he's spending his days in a basement. Which he does, Mikey told him. He also seems to be shy around strangers.  
Spencer is still nervous though without any good reason.

~+~  
When they meet again Gerard is still a freak, but much more open. They are hanging out at Frank's and Spencer can see how much more comfortable Gerard is here among people he knows, amongst friends. Chibi is talking designs with him and Gerard is stealing glances at her Sailor Saturn tattoo. She laughs when she notices and rolls her sleeve up so he can see it properly. He runs a finger over it without asking and she doesn't seem to mind. Lindsey doesn't either. Frank's head is in her lap and she's sharing a cigarette with Mikey while they're talking new cords or something. He zoned out again, watching Gerard's fingers on the paper, his lips as he nibbles on a pencil when he's thinking about something Chibi said or added to the design. Usually he would talk drumbeats with Bob, but Bob is out with his girlfriend Emilie, so he just sits on the floor, sipping tea and watching the people around him that are now his friends. He doesn't even know when it happened.

  
~Five~  
There was a time he was in love with Ryan; hopelessly and stupidly in love. He was fifteen and Ryan was sixteen and had his first girlfriend and Spencer hated her for no other reason except that she had Ryan and he didn't. They were fighting a fucking lot in those few weeks before she broke up with him.

He never told Ryan that, he doesn't know if Ryan knew – if he knows. Ryan never acted on it if he did and Spencer was too afraid to say or do something and then when he was seventeen he met Angela and didn't think about kissing Ryan for a while.

When Chibi asks about his first kiss, he lies and says that it was with Angela. It wasn't. It was with Brendon because he couldn't ask Ryan. That's why it was Brendon.

“Mine was Gerard,” Mikey says. Spencer knows he's staring, but he can't help it.

Frank is laughing openly, “He always fucking says that.”

“So it's not true then?” Spencer asks.

“Oh, it is,” Lindsey assures him. Spencer looks to Gerard who isn't looking at anyone, but he doesn't seem uncomfortable either. This is nothing they are ashamed of, Spender realizes.

“What was Gerard's first kiss then?” He asks.

“Mikey,” Gerard answers softly.

Hmm, Spencer thinks.

~+~  
One Wednesday night he leans over and is inches away from kissing Mikey because he can't stand this anymore. He never kissed a boy he _wanted_ to kiss and even if Mikey isn't a boy anymore – you just aren't after 25 – it’s still someone who he wants to kiss. He chickens out at the last second. He hates himself for it.

~+~  
“Do you sometimes look at your sister and think: damn she looks good like this?” Gerard asks quietly out of the blue. He isn't looking at Spencer, but at Mikey, who is staring into space, apple in hand, like he's thinking about something really deep and hard, or not thinking at all.

Spencer shakes his head no.

“Hmm . . .” Gerard says.

~+~  
He plays lookout for Gerard on a Friday night at The Wall. He doesn't know who usually does that, but he thinks it might be Frank or even Lindsey sometimes, or Mikey. Mikey is a safe bet.

“So, how long will this take?” He asks, looking around.

“A few hours, we shouldn't have any problems though. Nothing ever happens here anyway,” Gerard answers shrugging.

“Okay.”

Gerard works with brushes for the most part, his hand sure and careful at the same time. Spencer is watching him, his hands, and his fingers, how the paint spreads over the wall. There is far more yellow in this one. “You had a good week?” he asks.

“What? Why?”

“There are less dark shadows lurking around,” Spencer answers.

“Yeah, I had a good week . . .” Gerard says, but doesn't offer anything more. Spencer mentally goes over the week. Monday he and Mikey were hanging at Frank's with Gerard and the rest of the band. They played on Wednesday and Gerard was there as well and yesterday Spencer brought them Indian after work, because they wanted to watch Shaun of the Dead.

“Do you give them titles?” He wants to know. He suppresses his smile. He doesn't know if it would freak Gerard out that he knows why his week was a good one.

“Sometimes,” Gerard admits. “Not as creative as yours . . .” he adds.

“Hey!”

“That one would be Friday number . . .” he counts in his head, Spencer can see it, “three, right?”

“Yeah.. . . .” Spencer says. “But it isn't. So what do you call it?”

“Secret,” Gerard answers.

“Hmmm . . .”

  
~Six~  
Maybe, just maybe, Spencer never fell out of love with Ryan. He isn't sure. Maybe that was the reason he needed to get away from Vegas, maybe that's the reason he only left a couple of lyrics for Ryan and not his own words. Maybe he's a coward or a masochist or both.

~+~  
He's eighteen and only human and hot lesbians making out on a small stage and backstage against the wall – and he so wasn't prepared to see that – makes him feel all hot and bothered. He leans against the cool wall and just breathes, in and out and in again.

“You saw Chibi and Lindsey making out, hmm?” Mikey asks. Spencer turns his head a bit to glare at him. “Happens to all of us; hot lesbians,” he shrugs, taking out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one. Spencer watches as he inhales, exhales, inhales again; long fingers and soft lips.

“I was in love with Ryan,” he says. Mikey inhales smoke again and nods. It's one of Mikey's 'I'm listening' nods. “I never told him.”

“Best friends?”

“Yeah . . . You?”

Mikey shakes his head. “Gerard and Frank,” he says.

“Oh . . . So Gerard's gay?”

“I think everyone is gay for someone at some point in their lives. Doesn't mean they all realize it,” Mikey answers.

“Who are you gay for?” Spencer asks, because he has seen Mikey leaving after gigs with girls and girls only.

“Secret,” Mikey says with a soft smile. He looks beautiful like this, with this small smile playing on his lips around his cigarette.

~+~  
Spencer never thought he would be talking art with someone at some point in his young life, but here he is, in his shitty apartment talking Gerard's street art with Gerard, the artist. And it doesn't feel like Gerard wants to hear how great he is. Maybe because Gerard doesn't think he is great or maybe he thinks that there is always room for improvement. He runs his fingers over the cheap paper like Mikey did all these weeks ago.

“But why this one, why 'Saturday number one'?” Gerard asks. He is looking at it like it's not good enough, like he could've made it better.

Spencer shrugs. “It feels soft,” he replies and feels stupid.

“Hmmm . . .” Gerard says, stepping away from it and cocking his head to the right side a bit. “I suppose it does,” he adds.

“What's your favourite?” Spencer asks.

“I don't have one, they are all mine, and I think it wouldn't be fair to have a favourite.” He shrugs, grabbing his mug of coffee and taking a sip. It's actually still too hot to drink, but Gerard doesn't seem to mind.

“You're not thinking of them as your children, are you?”

“Would that be creepy?” Gerard wants to know.

“Yes and no,” Spencer admits.

Gerard laughs. “Because it's me?”

“Because it's you.”

~+~  
Sometimes he doesn't try to forget the dreams. Sometimes on his free days he recalls them and takes his time to get himself off. He doesn't dream of Ryan anymore. He hasn't dreamt about Ryan for weeks now. Instead he is dreaming of fingers smeared with paint and soft lips exhaling smoke and sharp hips – and those aren't Ryan's either.

He might be head over heels for the Way brothers.

  
~Seven~  
The thing is, he didn't believe you could love two people equally, never thought about polygamy as something that could work outside a novel. Real people have real feelings and jealousy is a strong one.

It seems to be different with the Way brothers. For one; they are the Way brothers, they _are_ different. He has never met anyone before who was like them. For another they are like one person in two bodies, but not. It's hard to imagine one without the other. They are the ying to the other's yang, a perfect entity.

If this could work, it could only work with them, he thinks. The down part is that they are brothers. It would be wrong. Everything he wants would be wrong. That doesn't make him stop fantasizing about it. What's in his head doesn't hurt anyone.

~+~  
He's sitting with Gerard in the back of the bar, watching the band. Away from the stage it's quiet enough to talk.

“He always kind of hides,” Gerard says. Spencer looks away from Gerard's profile. He was staring at and at the stage. He knows that Mikey does it, he actually doesn't need to look at the stage, but it's an excuse to stare at Mikey, so.

“He doesn't like the spotlight.”

“He doesn't need to hide . . .” Gerard says. Spencer knows that Gerard thinks Mikey is perfect, but Mikey is his brother and he loves him. “It's not because he is my brother that I love him,” Gerard says and Spencer realizes that he said the last thing out loud. “It's because he is funny and creative and plays bass with passion and because he's beautiful,” Gerard adds. Spencer turns to look at him. Gerard is smiling.

“Yeah, he is,” Spencer says.

~+~  
Later when he thinks about it, he isn't sure Gerard just meant like a brother when he said he loves Mikey. In that context, it is possible he meant it like an older brother, but this is Gerard and Spencer just doesn't know anymore.

~+~  
Spencer has a split second of panic, but he fights it back and just lies down. On the very edge of the bed, there is a mile of space between him and Gerard.

“Have you never slept with another guy in one bed?” Gerard asks and he sounds amused.

“With Ryan,” he answers without thinking about it. He slept with Brent in one bed as well, but not as often as Ryan. “But he was like my brother . . .”

“Except you were in love with him,” Gerard says. Spencer can hear him turn around and a second later he feels Gerard's fingers on his shoulder.

“I didn't tell you . . .” he says turning to face Gerard; he nearly falls off the bed in the process.

“Mikey told me.”

“So you tell him everything as well?” It's not a real question, but Gerard nods anyway. Spencer can more feel than see it in the dark of Gerard's room.

“So, why are you freaked out now? We're friends as well,” Gerard asks.

Spencer shrugs; he doesn't feel like confessing his epic crush on the Ways in the middle of the night, after he totally failed at Dungeons and Dragons. Gerard is waiting and Spencer sighs.

“I'm not freaked out.”

“You aren't comfortable either,” Gerard points out. What the hell is he supposed to answer? “It's because it's me?” Gerard asks.

“Yeah, it's because it's you,” he answers.

“Hmm . . .” Gerard says and gets up.

“Where are you going?” Spencer wants to know, pushing up into a sitting position.

“I'm going to switch with Mikey.” Gerard says it like it should be obvious.

“Why?”

“You'll be more comfortable then?”

“You are so stupid,” Spencer sighs – again without thinking about it. There is silence for a few heartbeats.

“Oh . . .” Gerard says and gets into bed again. He curls around Spencer and Spencer can feel his smile pressed into his neck. “I like you, too,” Gerard whispers.

Spencer blushes. “Fuck, don't say it like that!” he says in exasperated surprise and Gerard laughs.

~+~  
Gerard kisses him the following morning after his first cigarette but before he’s had coffee or breakfast. So Gerard tastes like smoke and Spencer feels like he's burning.

  
~Eight~  
Spencer is pretty happy in a way he hasn't been in a long time. With Gerard, everything seems just natural. He doesn't feel like he has to take care of Gerard and he doesn't think that Gerard thinks he has to take care of him. Spencer can take care of himself. He could since he was very young.

Everything would be just fine except he has the dreams, dreams about Mikey, and he doesn't know if maybe he just choose the wrong brother. He doesn't think so, but why, why the hell does he still want more?

~+~  
“So, you and Gerard?” Mikey asks, he isn't looking at Spencer, but just staring over the overgrown backyard.

“Yeah . . .”

Mikey takes a deep drag from his cigarette and Spencer can't look away from his lips. He loves Mikey's lips, Mikey smiles.

“Stop staring,” he says, but he sounds amused.

“Stop tempting me . . .” Spencer gives back.

Mikey laughs and then he just turns and kisses the corner of Spencer's lips. He's too shocked to do anything. Mikey steps back, takes another drag of his cigarette, leaning against the wall. He seems totally at ease.

“Stop tempting me,” he says quietly.

~+~  
His life, Spencer decides on a Friday night when he's again playing lookout for Gerard the artist, his boyfriend, is pretty messed up and also amazing.

“That's because life is like that,” Gerard says, he's waving his brush like he does with his cigarette when he elaborates a point. Not that this is a new insight, Spencer thinks and says it too. “Maybe, it's still true. Hey, do you think more red?”

“It's always more red with you,” Spencer sighs and Gerard laughs.

“Mikey says that too, you know?” he says softly.

“Mikey kissed me . . .” Spencer says, not looking at Gerard. Gerard nods.

“I know.”

“God, you really are telling each other everything!”

“Yes, I told you as much,” Gerard answers and he sounds fucking amused, Spencer thinks. He himself can't find anything funny in his situation. “So, more red?”

“No.”

~+~  
They're standing in the door to the backyard and it's still kind of chilly that early, even for summer. Gerard's hair is wet at his neck from his shower earlier and Spencer shivers in his worn t-shirt. That actually belongs to Mikey. Mikey stumbles over his own jeans as he rubs his eyes with one hand and clutches a coffee mug with his other. Gerard lights two cigarettes and hands one to Mikey as Mikey hands him the half full mug.

Spencer yawns, squeezing his eyes shut. He feels Mikey's soft lips on his neck and smiles.

“Too much sugar,” Gerard says, lazily.

“You can get your own,” Mikey answers against Spencer's skin.

“Nah . . .”

“Lazy ass . . .” Mikey mumbles, his fingers are cold under Spencer's shirt where they rub small circles into his skin.

“Hmm . . .” Gerard says; he puts the mug on the grass and turns to kiss Spencer. He tastes like coffee and sugar – like Mikey usually tastes, as he smokes less than his brother – it’s nice. “We should fuck on the grass . . .” he suggests and Mikey laughs out loud. Spencer can feel it against his back and neck, and he's sure Gerard can as well where his fingers meet his brothers.

~end~  



End file.
